Strong Women
by MirandaMinerva
Summary: Miranda and Andrea don't necessarily see eye to eye during the 2008 Democratic Primary Season; femslash ficlet


I wrote this back in Spring '08 during the Democratic Primaries. :)

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Strong Women

Andy was beyond exhausted. She had pulled a 14-hour day to get her article for Sunday's paper in on Thursday instead of Friday this week. Miranda had asked her to go on a long weekend trip, but wouldn't tell her where they were going—which was her idea of romance. As she climbed the stairs to the front door of the Priestly townhouse, Andy saw the glow of a light through an upstairs window. A quick glance at her watch confirmed her internal clock – it was well after 10pm.

As her key clicked in the lock, the light upstairs went out. Andy chuckled to herself.

"Too late, Cassidy." No one heard her talking to herself as she kicked off her shoes into the floor of the hallway closet. Despite a wicked desire to throw her coat on the floor of said closet, Andy took a deep breath and with effort slid it onto a hanger instead. Practically dragging her satchel to the staircase while attempting to psych herself up for the long, steep climb upstairs, her eyes spotted something on the hall table, right next to a vase of tulips.

"Fuck."

If Miranda had finished with the Book before 11pm, it was usually a sign that there were major edits to be done. Which meant she would be facing an especially irritable beast when she got to the bedroom.

When she reached the 2nd floor landing, she detoured to Cassidy's room. Really, she was doing ANYTHING to avoid hitting the master suite.

As she opened the door to the girl's room, she was immediately accosted.

"Are you CRAZY?! She's been upstairs pacing for hours," Cassidy hissed.

Andrea stood there, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. Cassidy's face peered at her over the bedcovers.

"And she is going to be PISSED when she sees THAT outfit." With a tug of the sheets, the blonde head disappeared from view. Andrea sighed and turned to head back to the stairs.

Suddenly she threw the door back open, "Missy, we are still going to have a chat in the morning about staying up late on school nights. I don't care how cute Dr. McDreamy is." She smiled to herself as she heard Cassidy sigh dejectedly. Shutting the door quietly behind her, Andy felt some small measure of success as she made her way to the 3rd floor. At least she would win a battle with one Priestly female tonight.

Taking a deep breath as she placed her hand on the doorknob to the master bedroom, Andy opened the door timidly. Her eyes lit up when she saw that not only was Miranda NOT wide-awake pacing the room, but wasn't even in the bedroom. A sliver of light cut across the carpet from the large bathroom. Andy quietly shut the door behind her and moved across the room. She could hear the reverberating sounds of one of Miranda's favorites – Beethoven's Symphony Number 3 – somewhat muted by the sounds of the bath water running. Tucking her satchel into her closet as silently as possible, Andy rummaged for her favorite robe to slip into before all hell was unleashed.

The faucet shut off and the echoing violins made it easier for Andy to move about without being heard. She tugged off her oversized blue oxford and walked towards the foot of the bed. As she sat down on the upholstered bench to take off her socks, she heard a slight crinkling sound and realized she had sat down on something a little bit lumpy.

"Shit." With the luck she was having tonight, it was likely some silken bit of lingerie that cost a fortune and had to be steamed flat.

Scooting down the bench, she picked up the items she had sat on. A pair of tee shirts? Bizarre. And airline tickets? Well, Miranda had told her that they were going away for the weekend. She glanced inside the United Airlines ticket envelope. San Francisco? She studied the itinerary. Yep. San Francisco. Hmm.

She placed the envelope down and unfurled one of the tees. Brown with a small sky blue logo on the back that proclaimed, "Make History!" Turning it over, she gasped.

In the same sky blue color was a scrawled the name, "Hillary"

For several long moments she sat there, dumbfounded.

"An-drea?" called a voice between string movements. She stood and walked into the bathroom, her mind reeling.

"Dear God, you wore those to work?"

Andy's head snapped up.

"Shit." She was still wearing her jeans.

Her eyes met Miranda's. The older woman arched a single eyebrow – shorthand for 'Excuse me?'

"Um. Yeah."

"You found one of the girls' shirts, I see."

"What?"

Andy followed Miranda's gaze to the tee shirt still clenched in her hand. She lifted the shirt up and felt a tug at her lips. It started as a giggle, but quickly took control of her. Soon, she was laughing hysterically.

"You thought the tee shirt was for you. God, no."

Andy worked to get her giggles under control, to be able to breathe.

"Yeah."

"The girls said that since they weren't going with us this weekend, I could at least let them wear the tee shirts they've been whining about."

"Huh?"

"Well, we're going to Napa to talk to the Mondavi family this weekend. I want to see for myself that the vineyard will be appropriate for September."

Andy smiled, stepped up to the bathtub's edge and bent over to kiss her love. She could feel a light sheen on the older woman's skin and the steam of the water rising up to curl around her. As she parted her lips against Miranda's, she was surprised to feel the tickle of fingers brushing gently between her bra and her breast.

When she pulled away, Miranda whispered, "I take it you have no reservations about getting married in California?"

Andy chuckled, "California is much more romantic than Massachusetts, yes."

"Well, I just donated a hefty sum to the Clinton campaign, so hopefully all 50 states will be romantic enough after January."

Andy's eyes widened.

Miranda tilted her head, confused.

"You, you, you donated to, to, her?" Andy couldn't even say the name. She simply held the crumpled tee shirt up in one hand as she stepped backwards several paces.

"But, of course."

"Miranda! Seriously?"

"An-drea. Surely even you can see that a strong woman in charge is…effective. And, with my recent donation, I've been promised the opportunity to have Nigel work with her people on ways to enhance her wardrobe. I'm sure you've noticed her taste in attire is similar to yours…before you came to Runway." A rare smirk graced Miranda's porcelain face. She fixed her piercing gaze on Andy.

"Although it seems you are attempting to unlearn everything Nigel and I have taught you…."

"Sorry. I couldn't help it."

"An-drea, please. Do not insult my intelligence. You had a choice and chose…poorly."

Andy cocked a silly grin and swaggered within arm's reach of the tub, "You don't think I look kinda hot?"

With surprising speed, Miranda reached out, hooked an arm around Andy's thighs, and pulled her in, water and eucalyptus-mint scented bath bubbles sloshing over the sides and onto the tile floor.

"Oh. Oh, my."

"I cannot for the life of me understand how you could ever imagine voting for that silly man."

"Barack Obama is NOT silly."

"You do realize what this means?"

Andy gave her an imploring look while reaching to pull a lock of silver hair out of Miranda's eyes.

"If you voted for him, and I voted for her in the primaries, we have, effectively, cancelled each other out." The quick tempo of the strings in the background gave way at that moment to more dulcet tones.

Andy gave her a gentle peck on the forehead, "I prefer to think we provide balance to one another."

"Balance? Hmm. I think that you just need a little more convincing on the strong woman theory."

"Only if you are the strong woman doing the convincing." Andy chuckled. She felt Miranda move with some agility beneath her. Before she knew it, she was pinned under the older woman, who was tugging at her now very soaked jeans.

"Mmm, this is definitely the kind of convincing I was thinking about."

~Fin~

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